He was wearing blue
that one fatal night.
That night that would lead me
to wanting you in a way I shouldn’t.
At this age, I don’t know love,
I only know love for family, not you.
Or so it seems.

When I am young,
they assume I know nothing.
Maybe I don't but this is certainly
not child-neglect coming into play.

Non-existent child-neglect.

I hope you’re okay, I really do.
You don’t know how hard it is to
try and keep your mind whilst thinking
about some boy every second.

You plague my thoughts like
fruit flies on an orange
except I like everything about it.
I like hiding it from everyone,
especially you,
especially me.

You were wearing blue that fateful night
that I realised my heart was doomed.